


To All of You

by Beyond_the_barrier



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, College, Drinking, Falling In Love, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Love, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Other, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Smoking, Smut, Trouble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 12:07:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19198471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beyond_the_barrier/pseuds/Beyond_the_barrier
Summary: Cas is having difficulties. Going in and out of mental institutions and taking care of his sister Anna. He never thought he'd get this far in life and now it's starting to bite him in the ass. No experience, no work, hardly any school. How did he manage to get this far with nothing? He figured he would've died by now, but now he has to focus on what his dreams are trying to tell him.Dean on the other hand has been going from job to job trying to find a place. But he keeps getting bad attitude problems from his jobs, and he cant get his shit together enough to find a good job. Not only that but everyone else is doing great. If he were to just leave and never come back everyone else would be great. But something blue keeps catching his eye. Dean thinks it will be enough to help him get his ass on track.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am going to try and keep this story going. But the more motivation I have, the more likely I have to keep going.   
> I appreciate any and all comments. So anything helps.  
> Sorry for any mistakes.   
> I dont own any characters depicted in this story.

Obstacles 

Blue eyes looked out a small window, faded, dirty, but clear enough to see. The grass isn't green, there are spots of weeds and brown dying patches. The asphalt walkway is full of cracks and potholes, with a broken fence along one side. The cars in the parking lot to his left are run down and cheap, each one a little older then the next. The outside area on his right is in full sun with all of two picket tables and a single basketball hoop. Even the street leading to the parking lot is cracked, and run down. It's like the whole block is falling apart piece by piece like legos and everyone just seems to ignore it. This is the only place his family can afford though. Better something than nothing, as his family says all the time.   
He sighs, adjusting his seating position so he can wrap his arms around his legs. Letting his fingers fiddle with the plastic bracelet on his left wrist. His heels digging into the chair to keep from slipping.   
One more night. He tells himself. Just one more night, then I can go home. But is home really much better?   
“Hey Castiel,” a familiar voice comes from behind, Dr. Pamela, his most recent therapist. “I just wanted to check in on you before you're released.” Pamela sits down across from him, placing a clipboard on her lap.   
They sit in silence for a minute, looking out the window. “Castiel? I need you to talk. How do you feel about leaving?”   
“Grateful.” Cas says in a low growl.   
“I need more than one word answers honey.”   
“I just want to go home. Get out of here.”   
“Okay. But how do you feel getting released? You've made great progress, it very well could be the last time you have to be here.”   
Cas just chuckles a little and shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”  
“Why's that Castiel?” Pamela sighs.  
“Because.. I've been this way for so long I never thought I'd make it this far.”   
Pamela just stares at him, waiting for him to continue.   
“In high school I… I just didn't think I'd still be here, alive, at this point. So I never made any future plans. Never tried to prove myself or even pass my classes. So I have nothing. Nothing to show colleges what I can do, nothing to give me a future.” He looks at Pamela. “so what's to say I won't be right back here in a month?” 

\----------------‐----------------------‐----------------------

Great, another job gone out the window because of his “attitude” and “lack of restraint”. This is bullshit. The customer was being rude, and was wrong about the price anyway, but was mostly just rude. Shit. He'd just finished training too.   
Dean walked down the street grumbling to himself, Jay walking to the store on the corner and nearly getting run over.  
“GET OUTTA THE ROAD IDIOT!” the driver yells out his window.   
“HEY UP YOURS ASSHOLE.” Dean yells back before returning to grumbling to himself.   
The bell on the doorframe jingles as he walks in, and he bumps into a cardboard display right inside the door. His foot kicks an empty box on the floor as he finds his favorite six pack of beer in the first aisle. Grabbing it by the plastic tie, and walking towards the counter, the cans hit the edge of the shelf as he turns. Placing the cans on the counter with a thump and throwing a bag of jerky on the counter with it.   
“You keep throwing shit around my store and I'll kick you out sooner or later.” The gruff voice comments before ringing up his items.  
Dean just groans in response.   
“Not even going to tell me what happened this time?”   
“Bobby… just… let me drink.”   
Bobby pauses, laying the scanner on the counter and crossing his arms. Not finishing the transaction.   
Dean sighs, knowing he wont get shit if he doesn't speak up. “Attitude problems and restraint. Just like the last two.”   
Bobby grumbles something under his breath before scanning his jerky and waving Dean's cash away. Dean doesn't even hesitate before shoving his money back in his pocket. He knows better than to fight with Bobby, he's too tired to care anyway. So he grabs his stuff and heads through the back hallway to the back door.   
The alleyway behind the store is empty and quiet. Dean and his brother set up cheap camping chairs here years ago. Each time Dean comes out, he's a little surprised they're still there. People in this dumb town will steal anything that's not tied down. But Dean's grateful, a little, to sit down in the worn out chair and just drink and smoke. He pulls out his cigarettes and lighter, placing them in the small drink holder in the chair. Grabbing a beer and cracking it open, he takes a swig and stares at the blank walls of other businesses.   
Smoking isn't good, neither is drinking, or eating the unhealthy plates of food Dean scarfs down in a single day. But at this point who cares? He doesn't have a future, he barely has a life. Why not smoke and drink what's left away? It won't matter in the long run. Sammy will be fine, Bobby will be fine, everyone would be just fine without him. Besides, he lost another job. What's to say he won't lose the next one? And be right back here where he ends up, each and every time.

\-------------------------------------

Cas only has a couple things that make him happy. One, obviously being the pills he has to take to be even remotely normal, two writing and reading, since they often go hand in hand, cas claims it as one together. Three, cooking. His family doesn't have much, but the here and there jobs Cas finds, he manages to pay for most of his own ingredients. Which is a welcome to Anna, who lives on soups and noodles when cas is away.   
But he feels bad leaving so often, his parents work the weird hours and they hardly ever see each other, least of all Anna. When Anna leaves for school, parents are just getting off work, and when she comes home, they're either sleeping their last free hours away or getting ready to leave for work again.   
So Castiel has become somewhat of a parental figure for Anna, when he is home of course. But Anna doesn't seem to mind, at least she doesn't show it, she catches him up on the high school drama and curricular activities as well as their parents' jobs. And cas listens. Stirring chili and rolling out cookie dough, he listens. To the petty problems of high school cas once was involved in. The who's who of what group and who told something to someone else. Or what teacher finally broke down and which kids got arrested recently. Its entertaining from the sidelines, and cas hopes Anna never gets dragged into it. It's a tough road to walk through.   
He can still remember when everyone found out he was gay. That's when things really went downhill. The name calling, the pushes, the literal and emotional beat downs. The subtle looks, the loud rejections. Even the teachers gave him side glances. It's unfortunate the world he's forced to live in, and the town he's forced to survive in. No ones exactly accepting here. There is a small LGBT+ group that meets up every month or so. But locations change because people protest their existence, and it's hard to find a contact. All the members that haven't been outed yet hide in shadows, and it takes a secret password and an undercover handshake to even talk to them. Slowly though.. slowly things are changing.   
The taxi that takes him home arrives in front and waits. Cas's eyes watch as the driver gets out and walks inside the main doors.   
10 seconds. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. 0.  
Castiel Novak please report to front desk, it is time to go home. Congrats.   
Cas sighs and stands. Walking towards the desk on this floor. They hand him his notebook, his small backpack of stuff, and his latest batch of pills, all together in a sealed brown bag. The ladies smile and congratulate him on being released. He can only give a small smile in return.   
By the time Cas is home, he almost feels like he should be going back already. Like he has spent too much time in the outside world and needs to return to safety. But seeing Anna waiting by the front door makes the feeling subside for now. Anna smiles as Cas thanks the driver and starts walking toward the door.   
As usual, Anna gives him a big hug and checks his wrist for his bracelet.   
"Only two weeks this time." Anna sighs. "You must be doing better than. They're not being so cautious anymore."   
Cas nods, and they walk inside together. Anna grabs his stuff and runs it to his room, before coming back and giving him another hug.   
"You're going to stay this time right?" Anna asks, mumbling into his shoulder.   
"I'll try." Cas answers in a low tired voice.  
Anna squeezes a hug before letting go and taking his hand, leading him to the kitchen and sitting him down at the table.   
"I've been working on something. Stay here." Anna turns and opens the oven, the heat flying into the air for just a moment before Anna sets a small plate of cookies on the table beside Cas. "I made cookies, from scratch. They're just chocolate chip, but I found a simple recipe and meddled with it before ending on this. The ultimate chocolate chip cookie."  
Cas smiles, I real smile. His fingers pick one up and he takes a taste. He looks back at Anna, she stands there, her hands together in a silent hopeful prayer.   
"These are amazing Anna." He says.  
Anna jumps up and down with excitement clapping for herself. "Yay." Anna laughs.  
Cas can't help but laugh a little too. These cookies are bomb, and he doesn't hesitate to eat just a few more before heading to his room.   
He has to remind himself that he should stay, and build some sort of future for himself. He needs to study. He needs to go to school. Get a job. Do something with his life. For now though … he'll sleep. Real sleep, in his own bed, with his own smells and his own blankets. In peace. 

Cas dreamt of nature. Strangely, green fields over hills with bright blue skies. The wind in his hair and a hand on his back. But it wasn't his own. He couldn't see the face, he could only feel the hand on his back. It was comforting. Relaxing. He felt safe with this mystery hand steadying him. He felt like he could take on the world. Suddenly he faced a cliff. Looking out into the ocean that housed only a few ships. His toes hooked over the edge of the grass, feeling the rocks of a sudden drop down below to boulders. Boulders that created giant waves that washed against the bottom of the cliff. Fear set in. Something was telling him to go forward, to dive between the boulders into the water. To take the leap and the risk. But he couldn't. He closed his eyes. A hand weaved into his, lining up perfectly. A shoulder rested against his, and a pair of feet joined his on the edge. Cas opened his eyes and stared down at the boulders below. A moment ago he was scared and didn't want to jump. But now. A hand holding his, and another life to take the risk too. He didn't feel so afraid. He took a deep breath, and jumped. Diving into the water, but not alone. This other life jumped with him. Holding his hand all the way down.

Cas woke with a sense of relief and comfort. This other life is out there somewhere. He knows it. And his heart is telling him to search for it. So before his memory swipes away this dream, he takes out a notebook and writes. Every detail he can remember. Anything to help him find this other person. This amazing hand that held him and the ability to risk everything with him.


	2. Call Me Hopeless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finally gets a job, and it just feels right this time. But the real trigger is the customers, just one in particular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I am working on this, it's just going to be awhile.   
> I do not know what my full intentions are, so please be prepared for anything.   
> As for how things work, bars, the mental institutions, I am making the work the way I want them to for the story, whether or not it's actually how it would work. But any constructive criticism is helpful.   
> More is coming I promise.

Dean woke in his bed, several days after his last work day, and stared at the blank ceiling. The small cracks in paint he could barely make out, and the tiny patches of missing layers he remembers creating. Sammy used to have a hard time in school, so Dean taped glowing stars to the ceiling to help distract him and get him talking. It's no wonder the kid is studying astronomy as a hobby. The smart ass is heading into the legal system but still makes time to study science. Dean can barely keep his mind on doing one job. Speaking of jobs…  
With a sigh, Dean gets out of bed and opens his laptop. Opening the latest job listings and pondering on what to realistically apply for. Let's see, hes done grocery stores, restaurants, retail, technician, administrative, even hotels. What's left? His resume looks like shit, especially with only a few references. One from an old mechanic that closed down just a few months after he got hired, not his fault actually, and one from an internship he did in high school. His favorite teacher convinced him to give it a shot as a way to earn a few missed credits so he could still graduate by the end of the year. The internship was surprisingly good. He worked at a small mental institution in the outskirts of town. It was mostly boringl, but it was interesting to talk to the patients. His supervisor stated that he had a way of talking to patients that actually resonated with them, and his work with them seemed to help them. The supervisor also advised him to take a path in psychology, he seemed to have a knack for it. Dean hasn't quite convinced himself it's worth it though. He'd love to try for an internship again, get a bigger picture of it, but nothing's hiring.   
Not yet anyway. Everyone's leaving, so hopefully something will pop up, and his previous experience will have a large influence on it.   
Oh… the bar downtown is hiring. A bartender? Dean could bartend. He can certainly make a mean cocktail. Hmm.   
Dean fills out the application quickly, sounding genuinely interested when asked about why bartending. He visits the bar every so often anyway, they might recognize him, and that could be a plus. Hes also good at listening to other people's drunken ramblings, and giving them life in the face back. Hes actually seen one guy who used to drink almost every night, come in less and less after talking with Dean about finding the right job. Last dean heard, he got a supervisor job at a grocery store three towns away and is dating some chick he met at work. Things seemed to turn around for him, maybe he can help a few other bar flies. Besides, when one leaves, another will simply take his place right?   
Today Dean will work on his car, what else is he gonna do anyway? His car always needs work, luckily he has a motorcycle for when the impala wont run. It's an old car, sort of, old enough that getting parts for it aren't easy, but not so old that it's a miracle it even runs. Dean likes it though, it's a project he can always work on, and it keeps him busy. Too bad theres only a few mechanics in town, and of course none of them are hiring or he'd probably just work there instead.   
So Dean spends his days working on his car. Cleaning it, taking care of the leather seats, checking the engine, and hunting down parts. It's a few days later when he hears back from the bartending job.   
"Hello?" Dean answers his phone, wiping away the grease from his hands.   
"Hello Dean I presume?" A stern female voice asked. "This is Ellen at the Falling Drunks bar. Do you have a minute to talk?"   
Dean hurriedly wipes his hands and holds his phone correctly. "I do. Of course. What would you like to know?"   
"Listen kid. I only got two questions for you."  
"Ok.. shoot."   
"Can you keep your shit together this time?"  
Dean smiles and runs a hand through his hair. He almost forgot drunkenly telling Ellen the owner all about his firings and 'insistence to quit' statements he has racked up. "I think I can do that. But I don't like to promise things I can't guarantee."  
"I'll take it. When can you start?"   
"I can start in 20 minutes if you need me to."   
"That's what I like to hear." A moment of silence before her voice comes back. "Be here tomorrow, noon sharp. If you're late I dock your pay. Understand?"   
"Yes ma'am."  
"See you tomorrow Dean." Click.  
Dean chuckles and celebrates with two bottles of beer. Quickly telling Sammy about his new job once he got home from school. This feels different than the other times.   
Late that night, with chocolate bars, 4 beers, and half a pie left Dean crashes into bed. Staring at the ceiling and thinking what it will be like this time.   
It feels right, like this is what things have been waiting for. He's not wondering how training will go and what things he'll be asked to do. He's not quietly betting with himself how long it will be until he's fired. Not grudgingly planning his last minute morning routine. In fact, he even set an alarm to wake up with plenty of time to shower, eat and smoke a few before heading out. It hasn't been like this since… since he had the internship.. when he looked forward to not only a new day but how he would change someone's life. Maybe he can't quite change everyone's life this time, but he feels hopeful. He's not thinking about how to get there and whether it's worth asking about parking spaces. He's not thinking that this might be his last step to a better life. He's not thinking about the chances of actually meeting someone decent enough to date. He's not thinking about creepy bar flies that won't stop hitting on him. Hes not thinking about his last real relationship.. that went down the drain because of a couple dumb choices and bad arguements.. he's not thinking about redeeming himself to prove to everyone he's better than he used to be.. hes not hoping to fall in love again.. he's not thinking that this may be his last shot.. he's not thinking about that…. He's not… he swears. 

\------------------------- 

The first few days of work went by smoothly. Dean studied the recipes while at home, (totally not to use for himself) and managed to pull through a tense shift. Ellen decided he was good for the late folks because he could bartend and still kick ass when necessary. Not to mention he can aim a shotgun better than anyone else she knows. Not that aim actually comes in handy, especially in such close proximity but it's a benefit in Ellen's eyes.   
Dean even met Ellen's daughter Jo, who drops by late morning to help set up and then goes off to school, or her other work. He's under the impression that despite owning a popular bar in town, they're barely scraping by, much like most of the world. It's why dean is here, hes barely scraping by, with Sam at school most of the time and dad well… dad having issues of his own… Its left to him to keep things going. Even if it means working overtime hours without overtime pay.   
But here feels different. Like hes meant to be here for awhile, like this is the first step to his future. Something he's never felt before. Despite doing everything in his power to feel like he's going somewhere, like his future has started, he didn't get it until now. Now it feels right, like all his other lonely average days were meant to be just that… average. Things are changing.   
That night, when the bar is packed and Dean works side by side with Ruby getting shots to partying girls and cocktails to suspected hookers and beers to big biker guys with bar flies ordering cheap whiskey huddled in the corner stools slowly getting drunk once more. It was a night of change.   
One more customer comes through the squeaky door and shoves their way to the counter. Leaning on the bar in between a biker guy with a handlebar mustache and the bar fly that only orders a rum and coke, this man yelled at ruby to order a drink. Ruby yelled back in response but dean couldn't hear a thing. The music was loud and the party girls kept screaming and there were a few arguments going on in dark corners. When dean caught a glimpse of the new customer, he had to do a double take.   
Blue eyes stared at the floor behind the bar and messy dark hair hung over his forehead. Dean lost focus for just a moment, but long enough that a biker slammed his fist on the counter because Dean overfilled the beer glass, and lost all the foam.   
"You new here man?" The biker yelled at him. "The foam is the good part son!"  
Dean looked up after sliding the glass in the corner and grabbing a new one to fill up. "I know. Don't call me son, sir."   
"I'll call you whatever I like if you keep messing up my drink!"  
Dean put the now correctly filled glass on the counter in front of the man. "It was once. Won't cost you anything and you still got your alcohol. Being nice doesn't cost anything either ya know."  
Dean left the biker grumbling before he could sock him in the face and began working on the next cocktail refill for a young woman wearing way to short a dress. It was hard to focus though.. he could feel he was being watched. A part of him told him it was mr blue eyes over on his right, but dean was too afraid to check. What if he had noticed dean staring earlier and witnessed the confrontation with the biker? What if the guy was a creep and thought two looks meant yes? What if the guy wasn't even interested and was just faking for a one night stand? Dean was getting really tired of those. He, for once, wanted something more and didn't want to dive in too quickly.   
"Hey handsome mind gettin that ta me faster cutie?" The drunk girl leaned one arm on the counter, taking up as little space as possible.   
"Just a moment ma'am." Dean responds not even looking up.   
"Aw pssshhh. How about I hook ya up with a lil som thing? Hmmm?"   
Dean looked up long enough to see one eye closed and a drunkenly half hearted smile.   
"No thanks. Here you go. But I'll need your keys." Dean held the drink a few inches from the edge of bar and out his other hand out waiting.   
"Naaahhh. I'm not that bad," she was definitely bad. "Jus lemme.." she weakly reached across the bar for her drink and dean just stepped back.   
"I need you keys ma'am." Dean repeated.   
"Fffiinnnee.." she pulled a small keychain from her bra and dropped it In Dean's still open hand. "Mother.. fudger.." she took her drink and went back to the dance floor.  
Dean placed the keys in a small safe under the bar and searched for the next customer. But it was the time that things finally started to die down. So Dean let Ruby know he was going out back for a break. With Ruby's permission, he turned around to go through the back door. He caught another glimpse at blue eyes, who stared at him. It was just a moment, but he felt his heart leap at the sight of the guy staring at him. How long has he been watching? Or did he too just look up?   
Dean sat down on the park bench outside the back door and lit up a cigarette. Taking a big breath in and holding it for just a moment. One thing working this job has showed him is the effects of alcohol on people. He's alright to enjoy a couple beers here and there but now it's not the same. Its hard to continue doing something when you see the worst effects it can have. The bar flies pass out so often that they have a special little closet/room for them to crash in when they dont wake up by closing. He doesn't want to know what happened to the last bar fly that was still asleep when they opened the next day. Got sent to the hospital and hasn't shown back up. So dean prefers the cigarettes. Leaving drinking to special occasions.   
Ten minutes go by before dean shoves his stuff in his pockets and heads back inside. Ruby is chatting with some bikers in one corner and pouring beers for them. Other customers chat with their dates or friends and the dance floor seems slightly less crowded. Drunk girl from earlier stumbles out with her other drunk friend and they walk towards downtown. Dean Hope's Ruby got the other girls keys because he sure didn't. Dean begins to clean up behind the counter. Wiping ice off their space and putting the bottles back on the shelf. Yet he feels.. weird.. like someone is still watching him.. part of him wants so badly to look and the other.. wants to just move on. Get home and pass out. Tomorrow is his day off so he can sleep for twelve hours straight and be fine.   
Maybe if he just ignores this person, they'll take the hint.   
"Excuse me? Refill please.." a deep husky voice requested and dean just knew.. he knew.. it was blue eyes.   
"Of course. What did ya order?" Dean asks, finally making eye contact with the guy.   
And holy shit does this guy have some gorgeous eyes. Wide light blue staring back at him. "Um.. actually.. bartenders choice." He says.  
Dean nods slowly, "sure thing." He takes the old glass and grabs a clean one, filling it up with the best beer they have on tap.   
Dean knows this guy is watching, he just knows. And dean notices that the guy doesn't break eye contact while his new glass is set in front of him.   
"Thank you.." he takes a sip, and watches as dean cleans some other dirty glasses.   
A moment goes by before dean looks back over and notices half the glass already gone. He chuckles, "like that do you?"   
The guy nods. "That's great. What is it?"  
Dean smiles and hands over a small business card for the brewery. "Locality stuff. Can't get it in the city. But you can buy bottles from the store downtown. Same name too, they're just hidden in a small alleyway."   
"Thank you.." the guy examines the card with his fingers, before pocketing it. "I should be going."   
"You okay to drive? How did you have?"   
"Its okay. I walked." The guy finished his glass and places a tip underneath it before heading out.   
Dean watches after him, until the last second. Ruby punches his arm lightly. "That guy is all over you."   
"What? No.." dean grabs the glass and places the tip in their jar underneath the counter.   
"Don't deny it Dean. You're all over him too."   
Dean just laughs. "Sure Ruby."   
Unfortunately she was right, but he won't admit it yet. Dean went to sleep that night dreaming of blue. Blue skies, blue cars, blue flowers, blue eyes, blue fruit, blue hair, blue eyes, blue drinks, blue eyes, blue eyes… blue eyes. Mr. Blue eyes all night long.


End file.
